How Do You Pronounce Ornithophobia?
by Dude13
Summary: As it turns out, Foster's resident caretaker has been harboring a rather unusual secret for the past few years...[Oneshot]


_**POP QUIZ!**_

_Question:_ "I wrote this because…."

A) I was bored.

B) My mind is a wasteland of nonsensical ideas.

C)I've had _far_ too much free time on my hands being stuck at home.

D) The fever I've had for the past few days has made me slightly delirious.

E) All of the above

If you guessed "E", then you are **RIGHT**!

And as your prize, a new one-shot!

You know the drill, please read and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

* * *

"_Frankie?" Wilt called worriedly, wandering about Foster's expansive library. "Frankie, where are-"_

_The air suddenly became thick with the sounds of poorly suppressed giggles. Immediately the lanky imaginary friend began to glance about wildly, eager to locate the source of the noise. _

"_Frankie?" he asked again, slowly eyeing the room about him. "Frankie, are you-OOF!"_

_Suddenly, it was as if a large book had suddenly tumbled from a tall shelf above and landed squarely on his shoulders. That is, if books could propel themselves into the air with a triumphant squeal and latch onto the first thing they came in contact with._

"_WHEEEEEEEEE!" the little red-haired toddler squealed happily as she clamped onto Wilt's shoulders in a vice-like grip. Quickly recovering from his initial shock, the spindly creature turned his head and glared at the hyperactive child in a mockingly stern manner._

"_There you are! What do you think you were doing, jumping off of bookshelves? Do you realize how high up you were?" he demanded, trying to hide a smile as Frankie flashed him a big toothy grin._

"_Don't care about no stupid heights, I ain't afwaid of nothin'!" she replied. Wilt snorted in laughter as he reached about with a winding appendage to ruffle her fiery red hair._

"_Last time I let you out of my sight, you little sneak!" he laughed. "You're unstoppable, did you know that?"_

"_Nope! Ain't nothin to fwighten me! Now less talking, more wunning!" she jabbered excitedly, bouncing up and down. "Piggyback, Wilt! Piggyback! Piggyback!" _

* * *

"Piggyback! Piggyback!" The excited squeal suddenly rang out through the foyer. Before Wilt had a chance to respond, it suddenly felt like someone had hurled a massive sandbag at him from behind as a heavy weight now adorned his shoulders. 

"AAACK!" he gagged as he felt a pair of arms throw themselves tightly around his neck. Still trying to recover from the initial blow, he wobbled about dangerous on his long, lanky legs as he struggled to remain on stable footing. All the while, he reached back and fiercely attempted to remove the very much unwanted passenger from his back.

"Frankie, knock it off!" he barked irritably, struggling to get a good grip on her. Now, had it been nothing but a sneaky toddler, the task would've been nothing less than a moment's worth of exertion. Unfortunately, the laughing twenty-two-year-old young woman who wrapped her arms and legs firmly around him in an iron grip was miles away from a mere playful infant.

"C'mon, Wilt!" she giggled, flashing him a devious grin as she enjoyed the free ride for all it was worth. "Piggyback! Piggyback! I wanna piggyback!"

"Frankie, _no_!" Her imaginary friend snapped as he stumbled about. "You're _twenty-two_! I'm sorry, but it's just _not_ cute anymore! Now get off now, or-"

"Ha, think your threats can stop me? I ain't afwaid of nothin'!" she triumphantly announced in a comically high squeak.

"FRANKIE!" Wilt yelped in dismay, dangerously close to ungracefully toppling over in a heap. Fortunately for him, however, the chime of the doorbell quickly put an end to the ambush, saving him from unnecessary contact with the floor.

"Aw, you're no fun!" Frankie giggled, loosening her hold and flouncing off towards the front entrance in a few deft movements. She flung the door open and immediately let loose with an excited squeal as soon as she spotted the familiar little figure standing out on the front porch.

"I'm _home_!" Mac declared excitedly as he immediately hurled himself upon the girl, enveloping her waist in a warm hug.

"Hey pal!" Frankie giggled happily, eagerly sweeping him up into a tight squeeze of her own. "How was your day today?"

"Pretty good!" the boy chirped in reply, all smiles. "Hey, have you-"

"Bloo's playing video games in the TV room, I think." The redhead responded quickly with an affectionate grin, well used to their little afternoon routine. "Hey, did the mail come yet?"

The eight-year-old groaned in annoyance, going slightly limp in Frankie's embrace. "Ugh, I forgot to check! Ack, just put me down and gimme a minute, I'll-"

"Oh, no, it's okay." Frankie replied reassuringly, settling him gently on the floor. "I'll go do it, it's no big deal. You just go run off and play now, 'kay?"

"Okay!" the boy responded happily as his "big sister" jogged outside, shutting the door behind her. The boy hiked up his backpack and began to plod through the foyer, finally noticing the unusually irritable-looking crimson friend ruefully rubbing a sore neck.

"Hi Wilt!" Mac said cheerily. True to his nature, the lanky beast could never refuse a warm greeting and quickly managed to crack the boy a weak version of his trademark smile.

"Hey Mac, welcome home." He replied in a subdued manner. The child cocked his head worriedly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine, don't worry about it. "Someone" is just in an unusually good mood today." He murmured, glancing irritably in the direction of the doorway.

Mac laughed. "So? You're a regular Mr. Sunshine, just because someone else is abnormally upbeat for once doesn't mean you have to-"

"_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"_

A blood-curdling, ear-splitting shriek suddenly demolished the calm atmosphere of the moment, reverberating so loudly from outside it felt like there was a chorus of banshees on the front porch. Before either the badly startled Wilt or the horribly spooked Mac could even fully comprehend what had just occurred, the front doors blasted open as if smacked by a battering ram, allowing a green and red blur to dive inside to the safety of the house.

It not only took Mac a few good moments to realize that was his own guardian who had dramatically flung herself inside, but it took the child even longer to realize that she had gone through a terrifying radical transformation of the likes of which he had never seen. Completely gone was the upbeat, good-natured young woman he had seen only a minute before, nothing but all smiles and laughter on a warm spring day. Instead, all that remained in her place was a quivering, pasty white mass of flesh and crimson hair, with eyes bulging so much in her shock it looked as if they were only moments from bursting from her sockets and rolling to the floor.

For a tense few moments, no one dared to make a move. The only sounds that could be audibly heard were the ticking of the clocks nearby outside of Mr. Herriman's office, Frankie's hoarse, shallow breath, and the wild pounding of all their own hearts. Finally though, with a nervous gulp, Mac managed to build up the necessary courage to venture forward.

"F-Frankie?" he whispered, cautiously making his way towards the immobile girl. "Frankie, are you-"

The child nearly burst out of his skin in fright when the caretaker's arms shot out and latched tightly to his little body as Frankie instantly burst into tears. Before Mac could react, she clasped him tightly to her chest like a frightened infant coddling a beloved stuffed animal.

"Ackpth!" the eight-year-old gagged as she squeezed him in a near-suffocating hold. "Frankie, what are you _doing_? Lemmego! Lemmego!" he squealed, struggling fervently to escape her iron grip.

"Frankie, what happened? Are you okay?" Wilt cried, dropping to his knees by the caretaker's side. 

However, the inquiries of both the imaginary friend and boy had been spoken in vain. Frankie was already long gone by that point, sobbing hysterically as she curled up into a pitiful fetal position, still hugging the wildly wiggling child close to herself.

"Frankie, leggo!" Mac continued to beg as her she tightened her squeeze, hugging him so closely that the tears that streaked down her cheeks began to splatter the eight-year-old in her arms. "Will you please tell us what's-"

It was at that point that the hysterical redhead finally managed to croak out one hoarse word. Mac's eyes widened in bewilderment.

"Huh? Frankie, _what_ are you-"

"Oh _no_!" Wilt cried aghast, his crimson fur hiding the fact that his skin had actually paled considerably. "Not again!" he lamented.

"Wilt, what are you-OUCH!" the eight-year-old yelped as the mortified Frankie hugged him as tightly as a boa constrictor hugging it's prey. "Lemmego! Frankie, Lemmego! You're…hurting…me!" he gasped.

After a considerable amount of effort, Wilt finally managed to wrestle Mac free from her tenacious hold, causing the still-weeping young woman to immediately search for a replacement and toss her arms tightly around Wilt's neck. Never pausing for a moment, the unusually tall imaginary friend expertly scooped her up into his good arm and hefted her off the floor in one swift movement.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay." He hushed the bawling redhead gently. Cradling her like one would coddle a baby, he immediately raced off up the staircase, yelling as loudly as he could,

"Madame Foster! Madame Foster! It happened again! Come quick! Madame Fosterrrrrrrr!" he cried, as he quickly bound off out of sight, his weepy bundle's sobs still reverberating echoing loudly in their wake. 

For a few moments, Mac just wordlessly stood there in the middle of the foyer, completely dumbstruck by all that had passed before his eyes. Just when it looked if he was about to petrify into a statue, the child was snapped back to his senses as he felt a gentle prod on his shoulder.

"Huh? Wha-oh, it's only _you_." He murmured upon spotting the familiar azure blob behind him. However, rather than greet his creator with a hug or a grin, as he would normally at three o'clock every day, Bloo only stared blankly at his creator, a dull expression lining his features.

"Bloo?" Mac asked cautiously, his imaginary friend's unusual behavior causing him some worry. "Bloo, what-"

"I heard everything from the TV room, and I…well…" the little creature blurted out. "And I…. "Yeah?" Mac inquired 

"What did Frankie just say, exactly?" he asked, sounding quite puzzled. The child frowned in response.

"I'm not sure…but it sounded a lot like something about "feathers"…"

* * *

"How is she doing, Madame?" Mr. Herriman inquired concernedly as the little old lady hobbled out of the caretaker's room. Madame Foster looked up at the small gathering that had congregated in the hallway and flashed them all a warm, comforting smile. 

"Oh, there's no need to fret. It's nothing a little bit of bed rest can't fix, I'm sure she'll be fine by tomorrow morning."

"Well thank goodness for that!" Her imaginary rabbit exclaimed with a relieved sigh. "By the way Master Wilt described her condition, I was afraid that-"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the lanky imaginary friend immediately apologized, as he did all too numerously throughout his day. "I didn't mean to cause you any worry, honest! I just-"

"Dear, will you please calm down?" Madame Foster interrupted him. "You did just fine, no need to-"

"_Hey_!" an indignant cry suddenly cut sharply through the chatter. Instantly all conversion came to a halt as all eyes became fixated down upon a very confused eight-year-old child.

"Will someone please tell me what just happened here?" Mac implored, clearly confounded by the recent turn of events. At this, all three began to shoot each other a plethora of nervous glances, and the whole trio seemed to become rather unnerved by his request.

"You mean…she never told you?" Wilt asked dumbfoundedly.

"Tell me _what_?" the child inquired irritably.

"Oh, dear." Madame Foster grumbled sadly, shaking her head from side to side.

Mr. Herriman cleared his throat before glancing downwards to face the child. "You see, Master Mac, your guardian suffers from a case of…well, for most of her life she's been terribly afflicted by a rather peculiar case of acute ornithophobia."

Mac just gave him a dull stare, Latin obviously not being of second nature to him.

"Wait…" Bloo finally piped up, having been very much silent the entire time, also very befuddled by the recent turn of events. "But we don't speak Spanish…"

"No, no, not that! What I meant that Miss Frances has an extreme distrust of certain domesticated fowls."

Again, he was rewarded with nothing but a pair of blank gazes.

"A rather bizarre paranoia of being assaulted by a particular type of poultry, pardon my bluntness." The rabbit finally stated, convinced that he had simplified it enough for their comprehension.

"Um….it's okay?" Bloo muttered, his gaze as empty as a deer blinded in headlights.

"Guys, Frankie's scared of turkeys." Wilt finally blurted out, opting for honest succinctness instead of mincing words.

"TURKEYS?" Boy and imaginary friend cried in unison, the bird that makes up the main course at most holiday dinners obviously being the last thing that they were expecting as an answer.

"Yup." Wilt explained solemnly. "From what I understood, she almost ran into a wild one while heading out towards the mailbox. Gave her a real nasty spook."

"But she….but…but you…b-b-but…" Mac stammered uncontrollably, unable to believe the ridiculousness of the situation. "How the heck do you develop a phobia of TURKEYS?"

"From deep-rooted childhood trauma, Master Mac." Mr. Herriman began. "You see, when a child-"

"Oh, will you stop the fancy talk and say it like it is for once, bunny?" Madame Foster suddenly cut in, rapping her cane sharply upon the floor to silence the elderly rabbit. "What's there to yammer on about? The child went on a field trip to a farm in second grade, and she unfortunately forgot that she had some cookies saved in her coat pocket for a snack."

Mac scratched his head, dumbfounded by the laconic explanation. "Wait, so you're saying that…hold on, _what_? Now since _when_ do turkeys like cookies?"

Wilt shrugged. "Well, _something_ has to explain why she got jumped by a farm animal three times her size."

"Poor, poor child." Mr. Herriman murmured, shaking his head pityingly. "She hasn't been able to look at any other living fowl the same way since."

"But I just saw her eating a _turkey sandwich_ for a snack only _yesterday_!" Mac almost screamed in his frustration to try and comprehend it all.

"Oh dear, we never said she's scared of turkey entirely." Madame Foster replied quite calmly. "It's just the living ones which frighten her."

"Wait, so are you guys _serious_?" Mac cried exasperatedly at the elders, confounded by their logic. "Frankie's been absolutely terrified of live turkeys for years, and all you've done is just left it at _that_?"

With this objection, Madame Foster just rolled her eyes as she began to hobble off. "Oh dear, not _that_ again." She mumbled irritably under her breath.

"Wait, what'd I say?" the boy cried confusedly.

"Master Mac, as much as I admire your deep concern, we shall not be rushing headlong into any reckless attempts to try and alleviate the girl's special…er, "condition," if you will. Not that we don't wish for Miss Frances's welfare, mind you, but that I speak to you from one with a considerable amount of experience on the subject. Past attempts have been tried to try and assist her, and…well…."

"When we were done, we were lucky if she came out of her room after a week." Wilt finished bluntly. Mr. Herriman gave the imaginary friend an affirmative nod before continuing his lecture.

"Thank you, Master Wilt. I do believe that's more than sufficient to drive the point across."

"_Excuse_ me?" Mac cried, gawking at the two in complete disbelief at what he was hearing. "But-"

"Master Mac, we are quite finished here!" Mr. Herriman swiftly cut him off with a wag of his finger. "Miss Frances's emotional state at the moment is quite less than what I would consider stable, and I am in no mood to have it be aggravated! She's been through quite enough for today, she needs some rest, and that's all that she shall get!" he declared firmly.

"But-"

"Master Mac, I absolutely forbid you from having any hand in this!" Mr. Herriman decreed flatly with a stomp of his large rabbit feet. With that he tucked his hands behind his back, whirled about, and in his usual dignified hop made a quick exit from the scene.

"Sorry, Mac." Wilt whispered, taking leave along with the old rabbit. Within moments, the child and imaginary friend were left all alone, standing together in the hallway. After a few moments of tense silence, Bloo, who had barely spoken a word the entire time, finally turned to his creator and asked innocently,

"Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we the only sane ones left in this house?"

"Bloo…." Mac sighed heavily.

"So…is that it? Is Frankie really just gonna be scared of the same thing that we had for Thanksgiving last year?" the little blob inquired confoundedly.

However, the question had been completely superfluous, as the child's furrowed brow and tight grimace displayed that already his fertile mind was hard at work.

"Not if _we_ have anything to say about it."

* * *

"…No, please! I'm begging you! We don't need to _do_ this!" Frankie pleaded in a badly trembling tone of voice. "C'mon pal! Puh-_LEEZE_!" 

Mac rolled his eyes and shot her an exasperated glare as he forcibly tugged the woman across the rolling green field, his hand gripping hers tightly.

"C'mon Frankie, I thought we talked about this earlier! Do you want to do this, and face your fears, or do you-"

"I changed my mind! I changed my mind!" The redhead babbled frantically, struggling to dig her heels into the ground. "Please, don't do this! No! Nuh-uh! Absolutely not! No! No! No!"

"Well tough luck, 'cuz you don't exactly have a choice here." Bloo mumbled from behind, trailing behind the pair and giving the reluctant girl a small shove every time she struggled to try and slow her pace.

Frankie gulped nervously as she took a quick glance at the red, wooden structure looming in the not-too-far-distance, in her mind resembling a haunted house or spooky castle from some cheesy horror film rather than the barn it really was. With every inch she was forcibly yanked along, her breath became quicker and shallower, her chest tightened rapidly, and her heart pounded so hard it seemed it wanted to burst from within. Frankie took a nervous gulp as she struggled fervently to keep from fainting in horror.

"How you managed to talk me into trying this, I'll _never_ know!" She lamented miserably in a hoarse cry. "Are you sure this is even legal? I mean, c'mon! This is someone else's property! We should go before we get caught! Yeah! That's it! You don't need to get in trouble with the law over me, it's all right! Why don't we just-"

While hastily throwing together this slapdash excuse, she renewed her battle to try and escape her captors and tear off back to the Foster's bus, parked not too far away along the road. As she tried to flee, however, Mac quickly tightened his grasp upon her in an iron tight hold while Bloo did his part by throwing in a couple of good pushes.

"Frankie, this is the last time I'm going to tell you!" Mac grunted in exertion as he struggled to pull the frightened redhead along. "Goo told us her uncle said it's perfectly fine for us to stop by, she said he won't mind at all."

"_I_ mind." Frankie whined, shooting a pleading glance towards him, her eyes teary with fright. The odd little procession continued, the determined eight-year-old pulling and his imaginary friend pushing, while the young woman all the while grew more rigid and stubborn in a desperate attempt to delay what was in her mind her imminent death. Finally however, the redhead managed to win out. Sweating profusely, Mac nodded to the azure blob nearby.

"I think this is as far as we're gonna get her." Mac panted, glancing towards the badly quivering Frankie.

"No need to say that again!" Bloo gasped in relief, plopping himself onto the soft grass.

"M-Mac, we d-don't-" Frankie struggled to object one final time, but it was of little use. Even though she wanted to exit the scene like a bat out of Hell, her terror had reached such a peak that she had crossed the line from struggling to flee with every ounce of energy she had to going almost completely petrified with fright. Her muscles now refused to respond to any command except shaking as if they were constructed of Jell-O. Frowning worriedly, Mac gave her a soft pat on the arm, while of course still keeping a firm grip upon her.

"C'mon, Frankie, you can get through this." He said comfortingly, cracking a wan grin. "It's no big deal, it's just-"

"It's just that you want me to come face to face with a bird that roosts only in the fiery depths of hell!" Frankie cut in with a terrified whisper. "Oh God, it's second grade all over again!"

Mac groaned, shaking his head.

"Frankie, knock it off! It's only a stupid bird!"

"Yeah, a bird that'll peck out my eyes first chance it gets!" the redhead countered, clamping her eyelids down tightly and throwing a hand over her face.

"Oh jeez, Frankie! Cut the theatrics!" the eight-year-old snapped, giving her a sharp tug on the arm.

"Oh yeah? How about if _I_ put _you_ in front of an oncoming freight train, or on the edge of a cliff? Then we'll see how well you handle staring death in the face!" Frankie snarled, her voice a course, hideous mixture of half-anger, half-blind terror.

"Frankie, come on!" Mac only persisted, far from ready to give up on her. "It's not going to be that bad! No one said that we're gonna try and shove you in front of a full-grown turkey and hope you'll be better when it's over!"

"Yeah, nice try, Mr.-Play-On-Words!" the girl replied bitterly. "You say not one, because it's _really_ gonna be _five_ of those things, I know it! I just know it!"

"Frankie, it's not-oh never mind, you'll see for yourself." Mac grumbled, waving to a very familiar figure exiting the nearby barn. "Over here!"

"Hi, guys! I'm coming!" Goo chirped merrily in reply, flashing the trio a huge grin as she trotted over, clutching something tightly in her arms. Frankie immediately squealed in fright and tried to draw back a few paces.

"No! No! No!" she begged like a scared infant would plead to a parent. "I don't wanna! Please! Please! No, not that! Anything but that! No! No! No! No! No! No!"

"AUGH!" Mac yelped as she dragged him a few feet, her hysteria knowing absolutely no bounds. "Frankie, no! You gotta do this! You gotta do this! You…gottta….do this!" he implored her dutifully as he dug his little heels into the ground in a vain attempt to anchor himself.

"You can't make me!" the young woman refused frantically, beads of panicked sweat dripping down her face.

"Bloo! I could use a hand here!" Mac snapped frantically, his sneakers creating deep ruts in the soil as Frankie arduously draggled him along.

"ACK! Sorry, I'm sorry!" his imaginary friend cried apologetically, leaping back up from his sprawled position and bracing himself behind the horrified young woman, throwing his blobby appendages tightly around the lanky redhead's legs. This did the trick, and her extremely undignified break for freedom came to a dead halt. Now, with all routes of escape cut off, Frankie could only struggle wildly in her heart-stopping fright.

"No! No, please! I beg of you! I beg of you!" she squealed. "Get that thing away from me! Get it away! No! No!"

"Here I co-oome!" Goo only announced happily as she picked up her pace, dashing excitedly towards the group.

"Any time soon would be nice!" Bloo bellowed impatiently as he and his creator fought and epic struggle to keep the thrashing Frankie in place.

"Please Frankie, just hold it together!" the child cried.

"No! I refuse! You can't do this to me! You can't! I won't do it! I won't do it!" she shrieked, practically on the verge of tears as the fateful moment drew closer.

"FRANKIE, JUST DO IT!" Mac countered, at the end of his rope with her behavior.

"I DON'T WANNA!" she wailed in reply, her hysteria having reached its peak. "YOU GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!" Bloo cried, clamping tightly around her legs.

"I'M GONNA DIE!" she sobbed.

"KNOCK IT OFF!"

"NOOOOOOOO!"

"FRANKIE, _PLEASE_!"

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! YOU…can't…do…"

The redhead trailed off as she finally took a good glance at the broadly smiling little girl trotting towards them. Much to her surprise, Goo looked like she was completely alone.

"Wait…" she muttered, halting her epic battle for freedom as an overwhelming sense of confusion washed over her. "Where's the…isn't there supposed to be a…"

"Sorry, guys!" Goo apologized calmly as she skidded to a halt, cradling something concealed carefully in her arms. "But it took me a while to get him, this little guy's got legs you wouldn't believe! Ha, I chased him like three times around Uncle Joe's house, and then-"

"Hold on! Hold on!" Frankie quickly cut the child off before she slipped into an unstoppable babble. "I thought you guys wanted to…wait, how the heck am I supposed to….you don't even have-"

"Sure we do!" The eight-year-old clutching her hands explained up with a wan grin, relieved that she had put an end to her struggle. "But we couldn't just do this thing all at once and hope you turn out okay, could we?"

"Baby steps, Frankie." Bloo added.

"Huh?" she grunted in bewilderment.

Goo only widened her grin as she finally revealed her special burden. "He's absolutely _adorable_! See for yourself!"

As soon as the girl uncovered the turkey chick hidden in her arms, Frankie instinctively cried out in surprise and recoiled a little, managing to drag Mac and Bloo back a few paces. Her heart pumping mad from within, the young woman squirmed wildly as the baby fowl stared at her through its dark, beady eyeballs.

"T-t-t-tur…" she began to mumble frenziedly under her breath, eyes bulging in terror.

Noticing the caretaker's discomfort, Goo only enlarged her already sizable grin a considerable amount, stepping forward, thus bringing her burden even closer and causing Frankie to cringe with a pitiful whine.

"No, see, it's easy!" she explained hurriedly. "He only hatched a week or two ago, so he's just a baby. See, isn't he the cutest?" she gushed, stroking the chick's downy feathers.

This time, Frankie didn't even attempt to say anything, her deathly, pale-white complexion was more than enough to express what unspoken fright she felt deep within her heart. However, Goo was far from losing her patience with the petrified girl, and not at all ready to give up.

"Tch, tch, tch, don't you know anything?" she clucked like a disapproving parent. "Silly, you don't just look at them, you gotta….well, let me show you! Here, it's easy!" Goo explained zealously, grasping on to one of the woman's hands and pulling it forward with gusto.

Frankie drew a sharp intake of breath as she felt her skin make contact with the little bird, and immediately she went as stiff as could be, horrified that she was only moments away from losing a finger. However, after a few tense seconds passed, and she was still in one piece, the young woman relaxed considerably.

"See?" Goo said happily as she ran Frankie's hand over the baby turkey. "It's no big deal, he likes it! Just pet him softly, like this!"

"Like that…" Frankie repeated softly, letting the girl release her hand and allowing her to gently stroking the tiny bird. After a few minutes of this, the girl broke out into a weak grin.

"Hey….I'm doing it." She whispered excitedly. "I'm actually doing it! Mac, look!"

"See?" Mac declared happily, finally letting go. "Told you it wouldn't be so bad!"

"Aw, he's kinda cute!" The redhead continued gently taking the baby turkey from Goo and cradling in her own hands as her unusually strong motherly instincts took over. "Who's a little cutie? You are! You are!" she cooed sweetly.

Bloo stuck out his tongue and looked away, disgusted by the cutesiness of it all. "Well, _that_ didn't take long."

Frankie just ignored his sarcasm as she continued, enchanted by the delicate little thing that chirped softly in her arms.

"Awww, who's a cute little baby chick, huh? What are you doing out here? Where's your momma? Huh? Where's your momma?"

Unfortunately, such sweeter words were never spoken with such poorer timing.

"LOOK OUT, FRANKIE!" Mac yelled as he suddenly dived to the ground. Frankie looked up just in time to see nothing but a mass of feathers as a barrage of enraged clucking filled her ears.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

* * *

"…I mean really! Never in all my years have I seen such flagrant disrespect for the powers of simple logic!" Mr. Herriman thundered furiously, thumping a clenched fist hard upon the desk in his anger. As the barraged of verbal discipline rained down upon them thicker than a snowstorm, the two miscreants receiving the full brunt of it all could only cringe pitifully as they huddled closely against each other as if holding out against an artillery bombardment. 

"C'mon, Mr. Herriman, no fair!" Bloo tried to protest in defiance, but it only came out as a hoarse squeak.

"Y-yeah, we didn't mean any harm!" Goo whimpered. "We were only trying to-"

"Trying to _what_, exactly?" Foster's President only demanded fiercely, glaring daggers at the two. "For goodness sake, you were ten miles out of town in a barnyard, with a girl whose emotional stability was practically nonexistent! What good could've possibly come out of _that_?"

"But-" the two complained almost in perfect unison.

"No buts! I don't want to hear a single peep out of either of you!" the elderly rabbit growled, jabbing accusingly at them. "Do you even have so much as a hint of a clue of what you've managed to accomplish? Had this been any other dilemma, at least I would've known I had the aid of a certain house caretaker to assist me in restoring order. But how on earth can Miss Frances perform her duties, when at the moment we'll be lucky if she leaves her room in the next month? _WELL_?" he bellowed, voice thick with fury.

"Get someone else to do her job for her?" Bloo answered simply with a meek whisper.

"When someone is suffering from acute an acute phobia of certain fowls, you no do not, and I reiterate, _you do not_ aggravate the situation by allowing that poor soul to be attacked by a _sixty pound mother turkey_!" Mr. Herriman roared, this time slamming both fists so hard upon his desk the chandelier above them shook like they were in an earthquake. "Didn't I specifically tell you that similar attempts were made in the past, and you were _not _to play any role in this mess?"

"Hey, c'mon! Don't pin this all on us!" Goo finally managed to find enough courage to speak out for herself.

"Yeah, Mac's in this too! I don't see why-" Bloo tried to object, but he was quickly cut off as Mr. Herriman wagged a finger at them.

"There'll be no passing of any blame on my watch." He declared firmly. "Mind you, I'm firmly aware of Master Mac's role in this, and he shall hear of it too, I promise you that much. I however shall have to follow custom, and will wait until he fulfills his familial duties until I can properly administer discipline."

The little blob just cocked his head confusedly at the old rabbit. "Famil-_what_ now?"

* * *

Wilt sighed heavily as he kept watch over the sleeping Frankie, thankful that she finally managed to drift off after that day's rather "unpleasant" events. He had to admit though, getting the hysterical young woman to get some rest had been far from easy, and a good half-hour was spent simply trying to keep herself from dehydrating due to the amount of tears that poured from her eyes. Fortunately though, a solution was finally found to the dilemma, and the redhead now slept as peacefully as a baby. 

Unfortunately, the solution himself wasn't particularly happy about his current situation.

"I really, _really_ need to go to the bathroom!" Mac repeated for about the fifth time, squirming about uncomfortably in the dozing girl's arms. Wilt frowned and wagged a finger at the child in an unusual display of refusal.

"Nuh-uh." He grunted flatly. "No way, I haven't had that much trouble getting her to go to sleep since she was only _five_. You want to get yourself out of there, then you do it yourself."

Mac stuck out his tongue at the lanky imaginary friend before starting to try wiggle free from Frankie's embrace.

"If that's the way you want to be, then fine! I don't need you, I'll just if I-Hey! _Hey_! Wait! No, no, no, don't do that, what's she-ARGH!" the boy groaned loudly in frustration. The very second he had begun to move, the redhead only whimpered in her sleep and subconsciously tightened her hold on the eight-year-old, further lessening his chances of escape.

"I am _not_ a teddy bear!" Mac spat irritably as his arms were pinned tightly to his sides. Wilt rolled his good eye.

"Look, can we not get into that now? What matters is that she's doing something else _besides_ sobbing uncontrollably."

"I know, but-" the boy muttered ruefully as he wriggled about in grave discomfort. "But I don't know how much longer I can take this! I really, really need to-"

"Well if you gotta go, do it before you talk to the rabbit." Bloo interrupted as he and Goo plodded solemnly into the room, like two war-weary soldiers returning from combat.

"Huh?" Mac queried.

"He _will_ make you want to wet yourself, no lie." The blob murmured ruefully.

"I'm just glad I haven't been drinkin' much today." Goo sighed as the pair let themselves collapse limply onto the floor, emotionally exhausted from the verbal barrage they had received. For the next few minutes, the little group just remained in a deep, awkward silence.

"ARGH! This is absolutely _crazy_!" An extremely frustrated Mac suddenly blurted out furiously.

"Whadya mean?" Goo piped up innocently from her sprawled position.

"Seriously, are you guys for real?" the eight-year-old continued. "I mean, just look at ourselves! Just look at why we're here! Because we tried to figure out how to help a twenty-two-year-old get over a crippling fear over some dumb bird that you serve with cranberry sauce on holidays! Does that really make sense to _any_ of you?"

"Oh c'mon guys, Frankie _really_ needs us now." Wilt objected good-naturedly.

"Pfft! Did you just hear yourself?" Bloo chimed in with his creator. "Yeah, I mean come on! I mean, this is _Frankie_ that we're talking about here! Frankie, the girl who's not afraid to punch out dates she doesn't like! The girl who can take on a whole gang of rowdy teens at once and not break a sweat by the time she's done massacring the lot of them! The same girl who took on an extreme-o-saur for God's sake without giving it a second thought!" he ranted angrily.

"I mean, in the name of everything-" his creator growled.

"Hey, but it's not like she just did it without any reason." Goo casually interjected, staring up at the ceiling absentmindedly.

"What?" Mac grunted dumbly.

"No, see, I remember." The girl explained, clambering into an upright position. "You told me about all that, Mac. Wasn't the only reason Frankie did _any_ of those things was because-"

"_Please_, don't remind me." Mac begged with a whimper as the unpleasant memories flooded back. "I take it back! I take it back!"

"Sorry. Sorry!" The girl apologized softly, resuming to stare off unhappily into empty space as the others settled down into a gloomy despondency.

Suddenly, from clear out of the blue, it hit her like a thunderbolt.

"Wait!" she cried excitedly, leaping to her feet. "I got it! I got it!"

"Wait, you got what?" Mac asked dumbly.

"It! I think I got it!" she squealed, quivering with enthusiasm as she scooted to Frankie's beside. She leaned in and began to whisper enthusiastically to the eight-year-old boy, who listened intently to every word she said. Quickly Bloo joined in on the huddle, eager to liston in on the plot.

"Ohhhh….oh, of _course_!" the little imaginary friend whispered ecstatically. "Switch all of her clothing with sliced turkey breast from the grocery deli! It's so simple! She'll have to get over her fear then! Why didn't we think of that sooner?"

As soon as he said this, both children went silent and shot him a pair of bewildered glares.

"Bloo, weren't you just listening three seconds ago?" Mac groaned in annoyance.

"Wait, so we're _not_ going to replace her wardrobe with lunch meat?" the little friend inquired bewilderedly, scratching his head and looking extremely lost on the subject.

"Um, that wasn't _exactly_ what I had in mind." Goo put gently, fidgeting with a pigtail. "Okay, lemme repeat myself…"

* * *

Frankie whined softly as she stood before the back door, eyeing it cautiously as she clutched a garbage bag in her trembling hands. 

There it was, an exit to the outside world, which was just full of those….those….those _things_. Those hideous, hideous creatures, just waiting to assault her the second she stepped out of the refuge of the house. Frankie gulped nervously as she tried to take one step forward, but quickly retracted it as a thought crossed her mind.

That awful bird from day days ago had spooked her right when she was getting the mail, within no less than a few yards of the front door. After so horrid an incident, how on earth was she going to just stroll back outside again in broad daylight? Was she really safe _anywhere_ outside anymore? Experience had already painfully taught her that now just being on her front lawn didn't automatically mean she was safe and free from harm; property lines meant nothing to the fowls of her nightmares.

But then again, she just couldn't stay inside Foster's for the rest of her life. The very idea was simply ludicrous!

Or was it? After all, it seemed like there was nothing much out there anymore except a land absolutely infested with…with….

Frankie shuddered as she felt a surge of chills run down her spine. This was absolutely _crazy_, she couldn't just stand there forever contemplating whether she was going to survive the one minute trip to the garbage cans. She had to do _something_, she was getting nowhere just aimlessly contemplating all that could go wrong or right with this. She just had to make that vital first move, she reached for the doorknob….

And jerked her hand back to her side as if she had almost touched a bear-trap. With w whine, the young woman hurriedly scuttled back a few paces. Maybe _tomorrow_ would be the day. Yeah, that would be it. Or the day after that. Then again, what was wrong with next week? Besides, what hurry was she in? She could just get Wilt or any other resident for that matter to take care of the trash later on. That would be it, no need to just go recklessly dashing into this like some-

As the sound of a gunshot scatters a flock of ducks, all Frankie's thoughts were suddenly dispersed as a high-pitched scream shattered the relative calm of the afternoon. Without even thinking, the girl let the garbage bag tumble from her grip as she dart outside, almost tearing the door of its hinges in her rush to find the source of the commotion.

However, her hasty dash was abruptly put to a dead halt as soon as she spotted an all-too-familiar sight: an ugly mess of brown and black feathers waddling about the backyard, flapping its wings and filling the air with a chorus of foul gobbles. The second the nightmarish poultry came into her line of sight, Frankie could feel her blood run ice-cold as she skidded to a clumsy halt. Never wasting a moment, with a yelp of fright she pivoted on one foot until she was back facing the mansion, ready to make a beeline for the door when-

"HEEEEEEELLLP!"

Frankie gasped, the color draining from her face instantaneously.

She'd recognize _that_ voice _anywhere_.

Immediately she whirled about to have her worst fears completely confirmed. It wasn't some stray wild turkey just stupidly wandering about Foster's. What she mistook for aimless waddling was in face a _chase_ in progress, a game of hunter and hunted the bird had obviously initiated, for there was no doubt in the girl's mind that the small boy it pursued would be so foolish as to entice a wild animal so.

Yelling in terror, Mac darted and dodged about the lawn, obviously trying to try and make a clean break for the house. However, all his efforts were proving pitifully futile; his pursuer matched him move-for-move, all the while buffeting him with its wings, lashing out with its beak, and squawking its terrible war cry over and over.

"Go away! Go away!" the hysterical child bawled as the wild fowl advanced upon him menacingly. Breath coming in ragged sobs, Mac hurled stick, rock, and anything else that came to hand in a desperate attempt to drive off his attacker. Alas, like everything he had tried before, it was all in vain. After another failed attempt to fend off the beast, the ugly bird jabbed out with its beak to try and peck the terrified boy. With a yelp Mac instinctively leapt backwards out of range, but was unable to land on proper footing and tumbled to the ground like a little sack of cement. Whimpering, the eight-year-old scrabbled wildly through the dirt to try and crawl away. His attacker, however, only advanced forward, a confident gleam in its eye as it made a lurch, and-

"NOOOOOO!"

Even Frankie was surprised with how fast things went. She hadn't even given a moment's time to question what to do, what her sole course of action came to her instantaneously. All memory of childhood trauma, all those remembrances of horrid nightmares, every second thought, literally everything fear had in its arsenal that it could throw her way was forced to step aside as an overwhelming surge of familial instinct flowed through the young woman's veins. It had taken less than an instant for her radical transformation to be complete, and in an instant the scared, sniveling girl had vanished into thin air. Instead, her place was taken by a certain little boy's older sister, and at that a big sister who had a bone to pick with a certain fowl.

The wild turkey let loose with a horrendous cry resembling a mixture between a squawk and a scream as the enraged young woman tackled it to the ground, after sprinting over to the scene at a pace only an Olympic athlete could match.

"YOU GODDAMN NO-GOOD EXCUSE FOR A CHRISTMAS DINNER!" she bellowed, effortlessly hefting the squalling bird tightly by the tail. As the turkey hung helplessly in the air, it screeched in fright as it came face-to-face with the enraged redhead, her face twisted into a scowl so fierce a gargoyle wouldn't be able to watch it. Growling ferociously through gritted teeth, Frankie tightened her grip on her quarry, and-

_THWACK!_

"You-

_THWACK!_

"-Don't-"

_THWACK!_

"-Mess with-"

_THWACK!_

"-My-"

"_THWACK! _

"-Little-"

_THWACK!_

"-BROTHER!" she howled, emphasizing each word by actually smacking the bird hard into a nearby oak with all her might. With the last blow, she raised the terrified creature high into the air, and-

_THUD!_

Frankie spiked the bird into the ground like a football player who just scored a touchdown. Amazingly though, after the horrific beating it just received, the very dazed poultry still managed to clamber up onto stable footing and drunkenly waddle off into the refuge of the woods.

"Yeah! Yeah, you better run, bird!" The redhead screamed, flushed with success and the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her teeth gritted into a ferocious scowl, she hurled leaves, twigs, stones, and anything else she could grab at her retreating foe.

"You heard me! If you show your ugly mug around here again, I'll rip that dangly red thing clean off your throat, stuff you full of breadcrumbs, and serve you for supper the same night! You'll be nothing but leftovers in a Tupperware container by the time I'm done with you! Yeah! I'll beat your feathery butt with a can of cranberry sauce, you son-of-a- "

"F-Frankie?" Mac suddenly piped up from behind, cutting the girl off in mid-curse as he shakily clambered back to his feet. "Fra-"

Almost immediately the eight-year-old found himself swept clear off the ground and into a crushing bear hug, as Frankie rapidly converted her boiling rage into an overabundance of motherly concern.

"Mac! Oh, my poor little guy! Oh, Mac!" the girl fussed good-naturedly, planting a salvo of sloppy kisses on his forehead. "I was so frightened for you! Are you okay? Did that nasty thing hurt you? Are you bleeding? Any bruises? Any cuts?"

"Ackpth!" the boy cried, squirming wildly as the redhead simultaneously checked him for injuries and assaulted him with a hail of comforting hugs, kisses and nuzzles. "Quit it! Quit it! Frankie, I'm okay! I'm okay!"

"You sure? Did he hurt you? Huh? Maybe I just haven't-" she only continued good-naturedly, lifting up the boy's shirt to look for any hidden wounds. When she found no serious injuries, the girl beamed uncontrollably.

"Oh, you're okay! You're okay!" She gushed happily, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just….I-I mean that I….I was s-so…oh Mac, you're all right!" she sighed in relief, burying her face in the child's chestnut brown hair. The barrage of over-affection over, Mac finally managed to crack a weak smile and relax in her grip.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay." He whispered softly, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Oh thank goodness…oh thank God…" the young woman said softly, her eyes actually starting to well up with a few stray tears. Mac smiled reassuringly, tightening his squeeze on her.

"It's okay…it's okay Frankie…" he murmured.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack, you rascal." The young woman chuckled, stroking his hair fondly. "What on earth were you doing, anyway?"

"I'm sorry….I was just playing outside, that's all….but then _it_ showed up, and…I tried to keep away from it, but…" he trailed off with a soft whine.

"Well, what?"

"I was so scared…and I didn't think you'd show up." The boy confessed in a low whimper, tightening his hold on her.

"_What_?" Frankie replied, sounding a little shocked. "What on earth made you think _that_?"

"I mean, it _was_ a turkey and all…." The eight-year-old explained with a bit of a blush.

"A turkey? A _turkey_? Ha!" she laughed, as if the very thought was ludicrous. "You expect me to stand by twiddling my thumbs while you're attacked by some stupid _bird_? You're my little brother! I'm not gonna let anything harm you, much less a turkey!"

"I guess…." Mac muttered, snuggling under the crook of her neck. Frankie smiled and bounced the child in her arms a little.

"Ha, I'll never let some dumb bird get the best of me! I eat turkeys for lunch with lettuce and mayo on rye!" she declared proudly.

"What? Oh, that's not what you were saying yesterday!" Mac replied with a chuckle. The redhead only brushed off the other day's "mishap," flashing him a goofy smile as she began to carry him across the front lawn.

"Oh, says you! Turkeys shmurkys, I ain't afraid of nothin', pal!" Frankie laughed, tousling his hair affectionately as she headed back towards the house.

However, she was so caught up in the jubilant moment, the young woman failed to spot Mac pass a secretive wink in the direction of the woods behind them…

* * *

Grinning from ear to ear, Goo eagerly flashed a thumbs-up to her friend as he was carried off inside. Seeing that the coast was fully clear, the little girl removed herself from her perch in the tree where she had been hiding the entire time, sliding down the trunk with reckless ease, almost bursting at the realization that the scheme had been a complete success. 

"Hey, you okay?" she hollered, cupping her hands around her mouth wandering about where the outskirts of the woods met with Foster's property. "Hellooooooo! Can ya hear me? Are-"

"Medic!" The pathetic cry rang out in response to her yelled inquiries. Laughing, the girl immediately darted through some nearby shrubs and ran to the side of a forlorn bundle of feathers.

"You were _GREAT_!" she hooted excitedly, reaching down to help the dazed "turkey" into a sitting position. "Oh man, did you see that? Mac was all like "oh no, help me!" and Frankie was all like "oh no you didn't!" and _you_ were all like-"

"Oh really? Thanks for informing me, it's not like I was there being used as a human punching bag or anything!" the "bird" snapped back sarcastically with an irritable flap of its "wings." Unfazed by its rage, Goo only giggled playfully as she clamped down tightly around the base of the creature's neck.

"Human punching bag? Dontcha mean _imaginary_ punching bag?" she laughed merrily at her little joke, twisting the head of the costume off to reveal a certain azure blob who was looking very battered and bruised at the moment.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Bloo spat angrily, immediately trying to remove himself from the stuffy disguise. "Ewww, when was the last time this thing was washed? It _reeked_ in there!" he complained bitterly.

Goo shrugged as she helped removed the resentful little imaginary friend from the homemade costume. "I dunno, I haven't seen this thing since the Thanksgiving Pageant at school last year. I only found it this morning after yesterday when we came up with the plan-"

"-A plan where you told guys told me I would "attack" Mac until Frankie only _chased me off_!" Bloo just whined unhappily, the abject picture of misery. "No one said anything about getting beaten within an inch of my life!"

"Oh c'mon, at least it worked, didn't it? It doesn't look like she'll be afraid of turkeys anymore." She said optimistically.

"Well why did that have to involve me finding out what it was like to be hit by a freight train?" Bloo squealed indignantly.

"Well, actually we weren't really expecting her to do that." Goo replied apologetically, removing the embittered creature from the rest of her old costume. Bloo stared at her blankly through black, swollen eyeballs, stunned by the utter casual simplicity of the girl's reply.

"MY HEAD WAS ALMOST BURIED INSIDE A TREE TRUNK!" he howled in objection.

The little girl just looked at him silently for a few seconds before instantly became all smiles once again.

"That was actually kinda funny, wasn't it?" She laughed. Bloo glared at her hatefully, words unable to describe the mix of furious indignation welling deep within him.

"You guys owe me twenty bucks each." He finally muttered ruefully, crossing his blobby arms in a huff. Never letting him bring her ever buoyant mood down for a second, Goo just threw back her head and giggled gleefully as she gently hoisted the battered little imaginary friend up onto her back and began to carry him piggyback style over to the house.

"You know, I've been in a _lot_ of holiday pageants at school." She began to chat up a storm in earnest, jabbering excitedly. "And we still have all the costumes stored at home, too. Do you think that we'll ever have to…I mean, not like there won't be anything in it for you, my mom gives me an allowance of-_OUCH_!" she squealed as she felt a sharp tug on one of her pigtails, followed by the low whisper of,

"Over my little bright blue butt."

**The End**

* * *

Quick fact: For those of you still wondering, "ornithophobia" means "fear of birds." 

Thanks for reading, everyone!

Please review!

-Dude13


End file.
